


Orange Blossoms

by DearLazerBunny



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anastasia AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 23:00:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17130335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearLazerBunny/pseuds/DearLazerBunny
Summary: ritten for the wonderful @molmcb (and tagging @marvellousbooknerd) who requested a Poe x Reader Anastasia AU! I… may have gone a bit overboard with this. If you haven’t seen Anastasia (first off WHAT ARE YOU DOING) I highly recommend watching the movie or the bootleg of the musical before reading. But you can probably have fun with it if you haven’t. Hope you guys enjoy; let me know what you think!





	Orange Blossoms

“Maintenance!” You knock on the door to someone’s quarters, responding to a call paged into your digipad just a few minutes ago.

The door slides open, revealing a curly-haired man in a sleep shirt and pants. Nothing too out of the ordinary, except he’s also covered in grease. A lot of grease. Like, needs approximately three showers worth of grease. You have to stifle a smile as he looks at you, seemingly exhausted. “Hi, did you, um… call for maintenance?”

He nods, briefly, before seeming to realize he hasn’t spoken. “Yes, sorry. Just- come in. Watch your step though.”

You wheel your bucket of water, mops, and other cleaning supplies in the doorway only to be stopped by a massive puddle of oil covering the concrete floor. In the center, a dirty, albeit seemingly very happy, droid is rolling through the muck, chittering away. This time you do laugh, unable to contain a giggle at the sight of a cheerful little bot and his long-suffering owner. “Had a bit of an accident, have we?”

“I was trying to change his oil,” the man mutters. He runs a hand through his hair, leaving a streak of black on his forehead. “Apparently I didn’t do a very good job.”

“Might I recommend putting the oil inside the droid next time?” The man stares at you for a minute, and you’re afraid he’s going to get angry. Instead, his eyes brighten, and he chuckles.

“You can, though I can’t promise I’ll be any better at it the second time.” He sighs, shaking his head, then pulls a mop from the bucket of water.

You’re a little surprised. “You don’t have to do that, sir. It’s my job.”

“It’s Poe.” You blink at him. Poe as in the pilot Poe? You’ve heard of him- well, mostly his extreme exploits- but never imagined you’d rub elbows with such a high ranking officer in the flesh. “And please. I made the mess, I’ll be damned if I don’t at least help clean it up.”

You hesitate, but then nod, grabbing another mop for yourself. The two of you scrub the floors as the droid continues to roll around, just making an even bigger mess. Finally, you glance at him- Poe. “What’s his name?”

He raises an eyebrow. “BB-8?”

You put away the mop and instead grab a leaning rag, then sit down on a section of the floor that isn’t covered in grease. “Come here, BB-8!” The droid stops and tilts his little head, looking at you curiously. You give him a face. “Please. You’re just going to make it harder for us to clean if you don’t.”

Poe watches as BB-8 glides over to you, stopping in front of your crossed legs. Tentatively, you wipe a little of the oil off of his body, then stop to see if he’ll freak out on you. He doesn’t, so you continue, whistling a little as you polish the grease off of his casing. The droid obligingly rolls around in front of you so you can reach every last spot of the sphere.

You stop when you notice Poe watching, leaning up against the mop handle instead of cleaning. “I- sorry. Is this okay? He was just spreading the mess around, so-”

“8 doesn’t take to just anybody.” He gives you a small smile. “You must be something special.”

The little robot makes a clicking noise like he’s agreeing, and you have to laugh. “I wish. I’m hardly special; I’m just custodial.”

“I don’t know, the droid never lies.” He resumes mopping, but this time with a little more of a lighthearted look on his face. You do the same, trying to keep your cheeks from blushing red. “So, what’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before, but you seem… familiar.”

“Y/N.” You stand and offer him a hand, which he shakes. “I mean, like I said, I’m just custodial. So I doubt I’m very recognizable.”

“Still, you look like someone…” he studies you like he’s memorizing the line of your jaw, then shrugs the thought off. “Anyways. Are you new? Where you from?”

You focus on a particularly stubborn spot on the floor. You always hate this question. “No, I’ve been on D’Qar a few years now.” You’re hoping he doesn’t notice that you didn’t answer his second question, but no such luck.

“And before that?”

“Um.” How best to say this. Surprisingly, as many times as you’ve told this story, you don’t have a stock answer memorized. “I don’t know. They think I was orphaned young…”

He frowns. “You don’t remember?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Nope. From about ten years on, everything is clear as a bell, but before that- nothing.”

Thankfully, he doesn’t offer any of the usual sympathies people try to put upon you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”

“You’re fine. I’m probably just a war baby, like most everything else. Nothing special.”

By now, with the two of you working, the mops are pitch black but the floor is clean. You dunk yours back into the water and offer a hand to take his. “Thanks for helping me out; not many people offer their hand.”

“Well, I’m not many people.” He winks at you and puts away his mop. “Thanks for coming. I’ll see you around?”

You smile, and nod. “Sure. Nice meeting you, Poe.”

“Likewise, Y/N.”

BB-8 beeps and you laugh, crouching down to his level. “Nice to meet you as well, BB-8.” You pat his tiny head and he whistles contentedly. Giving Poe one last wave, you roll your bucket out into the hallway and off through the night.

…

When Poe said he’d see you around, you didn’t actually expect him to follow through on his promise. However, it seems like the pilot is going out of his way to run into you, always saying hi or at least waving, if he’s talking with someone else. It’s not like you’re friendless, you’ve got people you talk to, but you have to admit the friendliness is nice. Over the next few months, through conversations here and there and the occasional standing next to each other in line at dinner, you think you can safely place Poe into the friend category- you talk frequently, and he even sometimes brings BB-8 to see you when you’re on a long shift. Seeing the droid- and his owner- never fails to make you smile.

It’s on one such shift that something floors into you from behind, causing you to trip and sprawl into the middle of the hallway. “Stars, what the…?” You look behind you and see BB-8 chattering frantically. He must have rolled into you and knocked you over. Poe, a few meters away, jogs up to you and helps you up, admonishing the droid.

“8, geez, you’ve got to watch where you’re going!” He turns to you and looks you over, still holding your hands from where he helped you up. “Are you okay?”

You flex one shoulder experimentally, then shrug when there’s no resulting pain. “I’m fine. Just a little fall.” You laugh, glancing down at 8. “Was someone excited to see me?”

The two of you grin as BB-8 goes off, rolling around excitedly. “That makes two of us,” Poe translates, and you try not to blush, rubbing a hand over the back of your neck. You try not to think about that statement too hard. You’d be amiss if you said you hadn’t developed a bit of a crush on Poe Dameron over the past few weeks- but who wouldn’t? He’s handsome, smart, but most of all, kind… your line of thinking trails off as your fingers work the back of your neck. Something isn’t right. Quickly, you pat down the front of your shirt, then swear.

Poe’s eyebrows come together. “Something wrong?”

“My necklace… I wear a necklace. It’s gone, it must have snapped when I fell…” you immediately begin scanning the floor for the chain that’s been worn around your neck since you were ten years old. Horrified, you feel tears well up in your eyes.

“Whoa, hey, don’t cry.” Poe puts a comforting hand on your lower back. “We’ll find it, don’t worry. What does it look like?”

“Um, a silver chain, with a silver button hanging off of it. The button has some etching on it…” you pull out a flashlight and sweep the floor. Poe practically has his nose to the ground, and BB-8 isn’t exactly sure what’s going on, but he too is scanning the ground.   
After a few heartrending minutes, Poe finally stands, a metal chain clasped between two hands. “Hey, I’ve got it.” You rush over to him, your hand following along the chain until it reaches the button suspended from the center. You gasp, relief washing over you.

“Oh my god, thank you so much.” You hold out your hand and he puddles it into your palm. The pad of your thumb runs over the button’s face, polishing the worn surface free of dirt.

Poe is watching you closely. “I take it it’s something important?”

You smile a little. “Kind of. It’s… probably nothing, honestly, but. Remember I told you I was orphaned?” Poe nods. “I woke up one day in a halfway house, nurses swarming above me. I couldn’t remember a thing, not my own name, not where I came from, nothing. Except, I was clutching this button.” You turn it over and show him the pendant. “We don’t know where it came from, but I’ve… I’ve always kind of hoped it was from my parents. From where I’m from. Something to tie me to- somewhere. Or someone.”

Poe studies the surface carefully. “It looks like an insignia of some kind.” He looks at you curiously. What is it with you and looking familiar?”

You laugh. “What do you mean?”

“May I?” You nod and hand over the button, which he holds up to the light, moving it back and forth so it sparkles. “I swear I’ve seen this before, somewhere…”

“Ha, wouldn’t that be nice.” You say it a bit sadly, knowing that over the years the strange crest on the button has led to nothing but dead ends. “I’ve researched it pretty extensively, but nothing’s ever come of it.”

“Hm.” He holds out the chain and gestures for you to turn around. Once you do, he lifts the necklace over your head and carefully settles it into place over your breastbone, then works the two strands of chain together so that it’s tied behind your neck. “There. That should hold until you get home.”

You’re blushing at the close contact, and your hand immediately goes up to where the button is hanging to ensure it’s there where it should be. “Thanks, Poe.”

You can hear him smiling from behind you, even without seeing his face. “Anytime.”

…

Poe walks into Leia’s office, face contorted in thought. The crest on that button of yours has gotten stuck in his mind- it’s faint, but he’s sure he’s seen it before somewhere. Leia notices the look on his face and sets down her pen, folding her hands underneath her chin and resting her head upon them.

“Poe. I know that look.” Her smile is warm and motherly. “What great secrets have you come to impart today?”

“There’s a girl; she works in maintenance. Y/N. Do you know her?”  

Leia pauses for a moment. “I believe so. Sad story, that one. I’m glad she found a home here.”

“She told me that she’s had this button since she was a kid, and it has a crest of some kind on it. Looks like… kind of like this.” He reaches for her pen and a piece of paper and draws a rough sketch, close enough to be recognizeable- if there’s anything to recognize. “I could have sworn I’d seen it before, but I can’t remember where. I thought you might know.”

“Interesting.” Leia studies the drawing for a moment. Her eyes widen. “It may be a coincidence, but…”

“But?”

“I seem to remember a ruling class of the planet Rusija. Their family crest looked very similar to this one.”

“Looked?”

Leia nods. “They were overthrown by the First Order many years ago; one of the first to be conquered. The family was executed, save I believe a matriarch who escaped offworld.” She shakes her head sadly. “They were kind people, fair and just. They did not deserve what came to them.”

Alarm bells are going off in Poe’s head. “I’ve heard of the Rusijas. We had reconnaissance mission on Rusija a few years ago. All these rumors still swirling around about the family- people supposedly still alive, bodies never recovered-”

“As far as I’m aware, the First Order was thorough in their work,” she says grimly, her mouth twisted into a grimace. “But I seem to recall that the body of the granddaughter was never proven recovered. That is probably from where the rumor stems.”

Holy shit. “And how long ago was that?”

“A decade, perhaps a little more. The girl could not have been older then seven or eight.” Leia looks at Poe carefully. “You’re not thinking-”

“That’s exactly what I’m thinking. Look at it, Leia. She’s the right age, she doesn’t remember a thing about where she’s from, and yet she mysteriously turns up with a solid silver button stamped with the Rusija crest?”

Leia shakes her head. “Be careful, Poe. If Y/N’s past is as troubled as you say, it has most likely taken her just as long to put her longings to rest. Stirring up conspiracy theories would only hurt her.”

He considers this, then stands. “Thank you, Leia.”  _But that sure isn’t going to stop me from trying._

…

“I told you Poe, I really don’t remember much.” You take another forkful of food and push it into your mouth, hoping that will deter him from asking many more questions. What you thought was going to be a friendly dinner date- I mean, not, date date. Just, as friends- has practically turned into the inquisition.

“You don’t remember much; that means you remember something.” He gives you a look that practically makes your heart melt. “Come on, Y/N. Just try, for me.”

You sigh. “I remember… people. Lots of people, everywhere, all the time. Crowds in fancy dresses.” You smile a little. “Dancing bears and painted wings. I have no idea what that might mean, but they’re clear as day in my head. And sometimes, snatches of a lullaby I guess someone used to sing to me. I can catch bits of it at night just before I go to sleep.”

Poe tries to keep the frustration from showing on his face. He was really hoping for something more concrete. People in fancy dresses, that could mean a royal ball or coronation maybe… patting his pockets, he pulls out an orange and a pocketknife and begins to peel it, lost in thought. So lost in thought, he doesn’t even notice you looking strangely at the fruit in his hands until he glances up at your face. “Y/N? You okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” The warm citrus aroma wafts over the table, and to your surprise it puts a little smile on your face. “Orange blossoms.”

“Say again?”

“Orange blossoms. The smell of them anyways, I… I’ve never remembered that before.” You shake your head. “Weird.”

Slowly, a smile spreads across Poe’s face. Bingo.

…

“Poe, where are you taking me?” You glance out the port of his X-Wing nervously. Sure, you’d traveled around a bit when you were trying to find work when you were younger, but that’s been years ago. In the distance, a large planet looms, with ships of all kinds rushing in and out of the atmosphere.

He looks at you, something in his eyes that you can’t quite identify. “Coruscant.”

“Um… okay.” You’ve heard of it, of course, it’s one of the largest planets in the galaxy, and you think you might’ve spent a night or two there in between planets at one point or another. You don’t remember much of it though. “Any particular reason?”

“Would you believe me if I told you it was a surprise?”

You huff and sit back in your seat. You hate surprises. Enough uncertainty in your life as is.

When Poe knocked on your door this morning- one of your few, precious days off- and asked if you wanted to fly, you almost turned him down. Almost. But the prospect of spending more time with him was too tempting to pass up, so you reluctantly got dressed and followed him to the airfield, where he loaded you into his rig. Despite your numerous questions, he dodged any real mentions of his plans, except every time you asked he had this bright smile on his face. So hopefully it was going to be something fun.

Fun was hardly the word you’d use to describe Coruscant, though. More like entirely overwhelming. After he docked rather expertly, the two of you disembarked onto a practically thriving airfield that held more people than you’d seen in your entire life. And this was just the first few minutes. On the horizon, sky-rises of every shape and size loom into space, making you eyes grow wide. It’s positively massive, and considering you’ve spent the past half decade of your life on relatively humble D’Qar… Poe laughs as you stare in awe at your surroundings, and to your utter surprise, he takes your hand and begins pulling you through the crowd. “Come on, Y/N, no time to stand around; we’ve got a lot to see!”

You wind your fingers through his and have to skip a little to catch up with his long legs. While he dodges through the crowds with ease, like he’s done this a million times before- and you suppose he probably has- you’re stumbling to catch up, getting sidetracked by every little thing. A street vendor selling exotic-looking fruits, the mixture of people dressed in fine silks walking alongside men and women who look like they got dressed in the dark. The noise of ships flying overhead coupled with the buzz of so many inhabitants makes you want to clap your hands over your ears like a small child. But your hand in his gives you confidence as you weave through the city.

Poe looks over at you with a grin on his face. “What do you think?” He has to practically shout to be heard.

“It’s…” you’re at a loss for words, and shake your head.

“Come on, I know of a place where it’s quieter.”

After what seems like miles of walking, plus two transport cruisers and even backtracking a few times, you finally come upon a neighborhood that’s probably the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your life. In the center of the road is a yards-long reflection pool, reflecting multicolored tress lining the walks. The houses- more like estates- are different than the urban city you’ve emerged from; these are delicate and spacious, almost like precious antiques. You glance nervously around at the couples strolling down the street, dressed in finery and carrying parasols that probably cost more than your entire life is worth. “Um, Poe? Are you sure we’re allowed to be here?”

“Don’t worry, we’re here to meet someone.”

You glance down at your attire, a simple sweatshirt and grey pants. “I don’t really think I’m dressed to meet anyone.”

“Y/N, look at me.” You do, his brown eyes glittering. “It’s fine. Trust me.”

And you do. So you take a deep breath and follow him down the sidewalk to the end of the lane. He still hasn’t let go of your hand.

When you arrive at the end of the street, a massive mansion rises up to greet you. Poe, seemingly unintimidated by his surroundings, walks right up to the main doors and speaks quietly to the servant on duty. “Poe Dameron and guest, to see the lady of the house.”

The lady of the house? Your mind is spinning as you’re let inside. Is this Poe’s house? Are you going to meet his mother or something? No, that can’t be it, he told you his mother died when he was young…

“Ah. So you must be Mr. Dameron.” An elderly lady, leaning not heavily but gracefully on a cane, descends a staircase to meet the two of you. As Poe walks up to greet her, you stand behind awkwardly, wringing your hands. You still have no idea why you’re here or what’s going on.

“I am. It is very kind of you to meet with us, Lady Rusija.”

She eyes him a bit wearily before taking the hand he has offered her to help her down the last few stairs. “I am sure you are aware I am no longer in the habit of taking visitors of… your kind.”

“I don’t think you’ll be disappointed, my lady.” There’s that sparkle in his eye again.

The old woman harrumphs. “Well, where is she?”

In a moment of panic you realize she’s probably talking about you. You look around wildly for a column or closet in which to hide, but she lays eyes on you before you can move a muscle. Poe gestures for you to step forward. You give him a look that clearly says what the ever-living hell is going on?! And he placates you with a nod of his head. “Lady Rusija, this is Y/N.”

Time seems to pause. The old woman’s eyes are clear and sharp as they take you in from head to toe. She comes forward, apparently to examine you more closely, as you stand there under her scrutiny. “I see,” she murmurs, and that’s enough for your frustration of this entire ordeal to come to a boil.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” Your voice echoes through the cavernous halls, and you’re immediately embarrassed.

The lady looks surprised. “You mean you don’t know why you’re here, dear?”

Hesitantly, you shake your head. “I’m afraid not, ma’am- my lady…?”

She stands up a bit straighter and looks you directly in the eye. “Mr. Dameron here has contacted the house informing me that he believes a friend of his to be my lost granddaughter of the house Rusija. The lost princess, to be exact.”

A moment passes. Then another. Her words sink in. And then you can’t help but let out a laugh. “I’m- I’m sorry? A princess?” Neither of the other two are laughing, and eventually you realize they’re dead serious. “Um, I’m terribly sorry, ma’am, but I think Poe here is either playing a joke on me or is incredibly stupid. Or possibly both. I’m definitely no princess. I’m a maintenance worker,” you explain. “Nothing more. We are incredibly sorry to have wasted your time. Aren’t we, Poe?” You glare at him with a look that could kill. You can’t believe he would do this to you. Marking you up to be some lost princess, just because you don’t know where you came from. That’s not funny- in fact, it’s a little cruel. You’re beyond hurt, and even more surprised when Poe shakes his head.

“Y/N, just hear me out-”

“No, I don’t think I will! You think this is funny? I-” to your horror, tears begin to well in your eyes. “I told you about my past in confidence,” you whisper harshly at him. “And now you’re mocking me for what, having amnesia? Not knowing who my parents are? I thought more of you, Poe. Clearly I was wrong.”

The woman has been listening to your confession closely. “You say you have amnesia, dear?”

Started, you turn your attention back to her. “I- um. Yes. I don’t remember anything before the age of about ten. But I’m a war orphan,” you counter. “Nothing more.”

Poe turns to the woman. “She’s twenty two now. That would have been exactly around the time Rusija was overthrown.”

Lady Rusija- wait, so like… was she named after the planet, or was the planet named after her…?- nods. Like she’s buying into his game. “And you say she has an artifact?”

“Y/N, show her your necklace.”

“I-” your hand immediately goes up to your prized possession, cradling it like you’re protecting it. “I don’t-” but they’re both looking at you so expectantly you simply sigh and unclamped it from around your neck, practically throwing it at Poe, then crossing your arms in a defiant stance. If they were going to make you suffer through this madness, fine. You had no way of getting home without Poe, after all.

He holds it out to the lady and she takes it gently in her gnarled fingers. To your surprise, her eyes glisten with tears almost immediately. “I have not seen our family crest in over a decade,” she whispers, obviously reverent in the moment.

“I- your family crest?” You ask, confused.

“The Rusijas ruled the planet Rusija up until a decade ago, when they were overthrown by the First Order. I thought the insignia on your button looked familiar, so I did some digging. It turned out to be the Rusija family crest. Which is next to impossible, considering the First Order all but destroyed every little trace of the ruling family when they took over.”

You shake your head. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know it had history.” You turn to the old woman, still gazing at the pendant. “If it means so much to you, by all means please keep it.”

She smiles at you. “You are very kind, dear, but you do not seem to understand.” You look at her. “Only the royal family was allowed to bear the family crest.”

Um. “I must have picked it up somewhere-”

“I sincerely doubt it.” She’s looking at you a bit more curiously now, and less accusatory. You notice vaguely that her eyes are the same color as yours.

“Tell her about the orange blossoms,” Poe pipes up.

“I- what?”

“How you remembered orange blossoms, that night at dinner.”

“Um, I guess, yeah. But that could have been just a fluke.”

He shakes his head. “Rusija was famous for its orange trees.”

“Oh, no, I-” you pause, though. Wait a second. You do seem to remember something… something small. A flash of memory, of a little girl and an old woman walking amongst flowering trees, the scent of oranges in the air.

And the old woman looks remarkably like the woman in front of you.

You look at her now in a new light, noticing details you haven’t before. The sweep of her hair, the glitter of a pin holding her bun into place. The way her hands drape in front of her skirt. The smile lines around the corners of her mouth. Now its your turn to walk forward, studying her. Traces of memories are flooding back to you all in a whirl, so fast you can’t categorize all of them. A palace ballroom filled with dancers, clapping as you descend a staircase in the most beautiful of dresses, your family behind you. Your father, a crown on his head, picking you up and whirling you around as you shriek in delight. And yes, an orange grove, with you darting in and out amongst the branches as your grandmother laughs behind you.

Your… “grandmother?” Your voice sounds bewildered, and maybe just a tiny bit hopeful, mimicking the spark of light that’s just flickered alive in your chest.

Lady Rusija clasps your hands in her own. Looking into her eyes is like looking into a mirror. “My dear Anastasia,” she murmurs, her cool palm brushing against your cheek just like she had many, many years ago.

As she pulls you into a hug, you can’t help but notice the faint scent of orange blossoms emanating from her hair.

…

You’re pacing in your room, the train of your dress tangling in your footsteps and trailing behind you as you walk lines into the carpet. Your room. You have to laugh. You never thought that sentence would enter your mind. You look around at the grand suite you’ve been living in for the past few months, admiring the crystal chandeliers and carved, plush furniture. You’d never get used to it. But rather than surveying the view, you’re anxiously waiting for the video call on your digipad to connect, propped up against pillows on your bed so you can see the screen clearly. Please pick up, please pick up…

“Y/N? Is everything… oh. Oh, wow.”

You freeze. You thought Poe would be happy to see you, but instead he looks like he’s seen a ghost. “What? Is something wrong?”

“Y/N… you look beautiful.”

“Oh. That.” You laugh a little, briefly touching the tiara pinned into your hair. “Thanks, I guess. There’s a ceremony tonight.”

He grins at you. “Is it good to be a princess?”

“Um, something like that.” You sit on the bed, incredibly happy to hear his voice. “It’s… it’s something.”

His eyebrows crease. “You okay? You sound a little off.”

“Um.” Your chest heaves, and the tears you’ve been holding back begin to flow onto your cheeks.

“Whoa, hey, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“No, Poe, I’m just… I’m so lost. I have no idea what I’m doing here. I’ve been to dinners and balls and more parties than I can count, I’ve meet countless people whose names I absolutely cannot remember, and every day I’m dressed up like a paper doll in these clothes that aren’t even mine.” You take a breath. “I miss my uniform. I miss my bed. I miss…” you, you want to say, but you quickly switch tracks. “I’m a freaking maintenance worker,” you laugh breathlessly at the ridiculousness of it all. “Not a princess.”

“Y/N.” His voice is so serious you look at him. “Are you happy?”

“Grandmother is amazing,” you admit, wringing your hands. “She’s… beyond compare. But everything else… I just want to go home.”

“Y/N, listen to me. If you tell me, right here and now, that you want to come back to D’Qar, I will climb into my rig and come and get you before you can blink.”

“I-” you expected some big long rant about how lucky you were to be where you are, that people would kill for it, and so on and so on. Not… that. “Really?”

“Really. All I wanted was for you to be happy, Y/N. And if you’re not… well, then clearly you’re not where you’re supposed to be.”

You take a breath. “Okay.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Okay, as in-”

“Come get me,” you whisper.

He nods. “I’ll be there soon.” And the screen goes blank.

You breathe a sigh of relief. He’s coming to get you. He’s coming. You’ll be home soon.

There’s a knock on the door, and you spring up, wiping tears off your cheeks, hoping your mascara isn’t smudged. “May I come in, dear?”

“Of course, of course.” You smooth down the front of your dress as your grandmother enters, smiling.

“Ready for tonight, dear?”

It takes all your effort to maintain a neutral face. “Grandmother. About that…”

“I know, dear.” You look up at her. “I heard your phone call.”

“I’m so sorry. Please don’t think I’m not grateful, I can’t believe how kind you and everyone else has been to me. And this place- it’s amazing, more than I ever could have dreamed of. But-”

She holds up a gentle hand. “Darling, if you’re not happy, then what’s the point?”

You smile and run to her, folding her into a hug which she gracefully returns. “I’ll be back to visit,” you say into her ear. “I promise.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

…

You knock on the door in front of you, now incredibly familiar. “Maintenance!” You call out.

Poe answers with a smile. “Hey, Princess.”

You roll your eyes. “Poe, I told you not to call me that,” you say, waving your mop for emphasis. “I hardly look-or act- like a princess anymore.”

“You’ll always be a princess to me.” He waves you in and you enter with your cleaning supplies. You stop though when there’s nothing to clean- no oil covering the floor, which is kind of what you expected.

“Um, Poe? Why’d you call for me?”

“I just… kinda wanted to see you,” he admits sheepishly.

“Poe,” you laugh. “You don’t have to page me to see me.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to wait ‘til your shift was over. And… I needed to tell you something.”

“Okay.” You plop your mop back in the bucket and look at him. “I’m all ears.”

He seems to hesitate for a moment, which is so unlike Poe you’re about to ask about it, but then he says, “you’re settling in okay?”

You smile. “Yeah, great, actually.” When you got back to base, everyone- even people you didn’t know knew you existed- was so happy to see you. Your old room was reinstated, with none of your things over from the closet or shelves. It was like Leia knew you’d be back. The only things you brought back with you from Coruscant were your necklace, returned to its place over your heart, and a small bejeweled music box your grandmother hand handed you as Poe came to pick you up. When it was opened, that elusive lullaby you’d faintly heard in the back of your mind played daintily as a ballerina spun. It quickly found a home beside your bed.

He nods. “Good, that’s good.”

You look at him strangely. “Yeah… is that all you wanted to ask me?”

“I- no. No, it isn’t.” He sits on the bed, running his hands through his hair, and you sit next to him, concerned. When he looks at you, his eyes are fathomless. “I just wanted to say- I really missed you, Y/N.”

Oh, Poe. You smile at him. “I missed you too. Why do you think you’re the one I called?”

“I can’t count how many times I called for maintenance without realizing it, hoping you would show up. And being disappointed when you didn’t. I wanted to call you a thousand times, but I didn’t think you’d want a reminder of me… us. Now that you were in a better place.” Throughout this confession he’s leaned in closer and closer, until your thighs are touching and it feels like there’s only the two of you in the entire world.

You laugh a little and shake your head. “I’d never want to forget you, Poe.” And then, just because you can, you lean in those last few inches and press a kiss to his lips, something you’ve wanted to do for stars knows how long now.

You’re fully prepared for him to pull away, and for you to bolt out of the room, but to your surprise he buries a hand in your hair and pulls you closer, deepening the kiss. You lean into him, exhilarated, heart thumping out of your chest, and when you finally have to pull away you can’t stop smiling like an idiot.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he whispers against your cheek, and you respond by kissing him again with all the love in your heart.

You’ve never been happier that you decided to come home. 

 


End file.
